Throwback Thursday - The Notebooks

To clear up some confusion, the Notebook passages posted on Throwback Thursday were written by my father and found by me after he passed away. They were his attempt to tell the family history. He was in his late 80s or early 90s when he wrote them. Today's chapter:

At one of my birthday's, I was sitting on the kitchen window sill rocking back and forth and went back a little too far and fell on the piazza floor and split my head a bit enough to go to the local first aid hospital in East Boston. It would not be the last time.

To backtrack, when I returned to school in the Fall of 1924, I was put in the first grade. There was no problem this time. I think it was due to my teacher. She was beautiful and I took to her. And talked my mother or pestered her to invite her [ed: the teacher] for dinner and she finally did ask the teacher, Miss Mulledy, to lunch.

At the time, there was my brother, Mario, and me. And we had one room and shared the bed and still had the dining room. And our lunch was pasta and trimmings eaten in there. [ed: the dining room]

I was in my glory and proud to take my teacher home and back to school. At the end of the school year, I was moved to the second grade. In the Fall, I went into the second grade. For some reason, I did not like my teacher. She appeared strict. But we got along after a fashion. I don't recall anything special about her or myself. Once at recess, she gave the students rides on the swings and I got one. But sometime after school started, my mother began to worry about me. Because my complexion was changing color. And my father agreed. The following day the doctor was sent for. He lived in East Boston, not too far over the bridge and railroad tracks on Chelsea St. I think. Anyway, he was a relation of my father. Just how close, I never found out, but he was our doctor. His diagnosis was yellow jaundice and prescribed a prescription that was rather bitter. I was grounded for most of that year. And although I went back, I had not been in school long enough to do the necessary work to move into the third grade.It took some time for me to recover and the sickness was transferable so I had to have a clean bill of health.

Things continued in this manner for me

My birthdays were celebrated, the little music trio or quartet came, my mother's uncle came to make the Italian pastry. I was treated as a prince.

I became aware of my brothers and sisters and did not pay much attention to them. Until much later. ,Mario was next [ed: 18 mos. younger]. Olga [ed: 3 years younger]. Emma [ed: 5 years younger], Bobby [ed: 10 yrs. younger]. I remember Bobby's birth and something was wrong and I was sent to the pharmacy over the bridge on Chelsea St. (corner) I got what was needed and returned. When he was born, we were in The Depression.